


This Fragile World Is Tearing Apart At The Seams

by boltschick2612



Series: Shattered [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, New York Rangers, POV First Person, Tampa Bay Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltschick2612/pseuds/boltschick2612
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The water's rising around us, and there is no other way down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Fragile World Is Tearing Apart At The Seams

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately where 'Rain Clouds Come To Play, Again' left off. Told from Vinny's point of view. Not true. Title, and summary taken from 'Erase This' by Evanescence. Thanks and hope you enjoy!

"What are  _you_  doing here, Henrik?"

He just stands there, staring at me, as if I'm the one who's out of place. His stunned silence is infuriating, and I can almost see the gears turning in his mind. A few more seconds of awkward silence pass before I see the haze of confusion clear from his eyes. He points behind him, to the hallway of the hospital where I just was moments earlier. It was the exact same place I stood as they informed me that Brad was gone.

His voice comes out timid and small. "I had to get away...I couldn't be around people."

It shakes me to the core when I hear him utter the same words that had coursed through my mind as I rushed to the bathroom. I had to get away, I couldn't be there as my old coach tried to offer me words of comfort. And it turns out now that I wasn't the only one. I wasn't the only one who seemed to have a deep personal investment in the man that had been my whole life. Hell, I wasn't even the only one that had been contacted in the middle of the night. But why? I had to know why  _him_ , out of all people.

My voice sounds as if it's coming from somewhere else, somewhere outside of my own body.  "Why did Torts call you?"

He looks down at the floor, face displaying an emotion that I can't quite place. Is it....shame? Embarrassment? Whatever it is, he's clearly uncomfortable. I hear his voice escape him in low tones, a few failed starts pushing past his lips. He finally looks up to meet my eyes, and my heart stops dead, because I know what he's going to say even before the words leave his mouth.

"Torts didn't call me...Brad did. Right after it happened."

The last sight I see before I spin back around to lean over the sink is his face, and all the pity contained in his eyes. I close my eyes and grip the edges of the sink until the skin on my knuckles is as white as my face. He pities me. I start to shake, and the only thing keeping me from destroying everything in the room is the death grip I have on the edges of the sink. For some reason, I can't seem to unwrap my fingers from around the cold porcelain. 

In the mere seconds after the crash, Brad had chosen to call someone else. Brad.... _my_  Brad....had called someone else as his lungs filled with blood and he waited for the end. He had to make a split second decision, a decision about who he had wanted to share the last seconds of his life with...and it wasn't me.

I suppose I could make some half hearted explanation about Henrik's name showing up in the phone's directory before mine. That thought vanished though, because really... Artem, Brian, Brandon, and Carl all come before Henrik.

Was he listening to Brad's cries, and talking him through the pain as he took his last breaths?

The thought of someone else comforting Brad... _my_  Brad...in the fleeting moments before he lost consciousness and slipped into the abyss was more than I could handle. I don't look up, but I know he's still behind me. I can feel his eyes burning on my back. My jaw clenches so hard it feels like my teeth are going to break. I don't want to hear myself say the words, but I just have to know. 

"Were you....were you and Brad..."

The roar of silence is deafening, and in a way, his silence is an answer in and of itself. He lets out an exasperated sigh and speaks in a tone that is dripping with the same pity I saw in his eyes.

"Don't do this, Vincent. Not here, not now."

Something inside me snaps, and I can't help but let out a small, maniacal laugh. Don't do what? Don't seek out the truth, only to discover that everything I've ever known has been a lie? Or don't assume that his presence here means anything more than one team mate mourning for another?

Don't ask him about the things he might have done with Brad... _my_  Brad...because it's true? Or because the very idea of it is preposterous?

I spin back around, ready to face him, only to discover that I was once again alone. The door slowly swinging shut is the only evidence that he was ever here. As soon as I hear the soft click of the door latch, I fall back, resting my back against the sink. I can't do anything to stop the sobs from escaping me, and I crumble to the floor, stooped with my elbows digging into my thighs. It hurts, but I don't care. I really don't.

It's amazing how just when you thought you were done crying, utterly sure you have nothing left, your body proves you wrong. A fresh round of sobs escape me, and all I can do is rock back and forth, uttering the same words over and over....

"My Brad....my Brad...my Brad..."

And I wonder...was he not just mine?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Halo Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/595793) by [blueabsinthe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueabsinthe/pseuds/blueabsinthe)




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